


Paradise

by Kass



Category: 24
Genre: First Time, OT3, Other, trio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-17
Updated: 2008-09-17
Packaged: 2017-10-01 23:39:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kass/pseuds/Kass
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, in Mexico.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> Set after season 4 (contains spoilers for the finale). Many thanks are due to Justine, Sihaya Black, and especially gritkitty for making this so much better than it would otherwise have been. And also to makesmewannadie, who sparked the idea that led here.

It was Michelle who suggested a vacation on the Sea of Cortez. They'd started talking about travel in early May, when the semester was nearing its end and Michelle was nearing the end of her rope. She wanted to go someplace where she wouldn't have to think about her students for a week. Maybe head somewhere south in high summer, when rates were low.

She picked up a brochure from the travel agent, they read about the beaches and the fishing and the mountains, and in the end they chose Navojoa. If they found themselves thinking about Jack more than usual once the plans were made, neither one of them said.

Of course Tony thought about him, sometimes. Wondered how he was doing—hell, what he was doing. What his name was now. What it was like being so far undercover the world thought you were dead.

He and Michelle had talked about Jack a few times—once, bizarrely, in bed, just before making love. He wondered how much she knew about their history, and whether she cared.

But mostly he let Jack slip into the back of his mind. It was easier that way.

* * *

The sun was hot. His body was covered in suntan lotion which his beautiful wife had just rubbed very nearly everywhere, which felt like a promise of things to come when they returned to their room at the end of the day. The beach was almost empty, and there were cold beers chilling in the cooler they'd borrowed from the hotel. Tony figured this was just about perfect.

Except he couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched. A few times he got up and walked to the water to cool off, glancing around at the other sunbathers and the two boys playing racquetball over the remnants of a sorry net, but no one seemed to be paying them any attention.

Still, the hair on the back of Tony's neck kept standing up. Old instincts.

After lunch Michelle followed him out for a swim, bouncing in the waves in a way that was probably designed to give him a boner. They spent a while necking in the ocean, Tony's feet barely touching the sand, Michelle light as a feather with her legs around his waist.

And then she pulled back and looked around them.

"Something wrong?"

"I have the strangest feeling," she began.

Tony nodded. "Me too." He could feel his heart pounding.

"You don't think it's anyone dangerous." It wasn't a question.

"No. Nobody dangerous," Tony said back. A little bit louder than he needed to. He wondered if the words carried.

When they returned to their room, gritty with sand and mellow from the sun and the beer, there was an envelope under the door. Inside it, a piece of hotel stationery.

&gt;Welcome to Mexico.

You might consider camping one night this week. The Reserva is beautiful, though you'll want a Jeep if you're going to visit the northwestern quadrant. Up to you.

The handwriting was clean and spare. American. Familiar.

Jack's.

"What do you think?" Tony managed to keep his voice level.

"Are you kidding me?" Michelle unpinned her hair and shimmied out of her bathing suit. "We're going."

When the curve of her breasts was revealed, Tony remembered to exhale. How had he gotten so lucky a second time?

"I mean, if you want to," she added.

"I want to," Tony said, and followed her to the bed.

* * *

The concierge was happy to give them maps and directions, and they rented camping gear from a scuba shop "downtown." Wasn't much of a downtown: a few restaurants, a handful of bars, two surf places and a scuba shop that rented camping gear. But at least they could get their hands on two bags and a tent.

Most of the thirty-five mile drive to Alamos was spent climbing, from lowland Matoral forest to the foothills of the Sierra Madres. Tony expected there to be less greenery as they went up, but instead the vegetation got denser, flowering trees and vines over tall column cacti.

Outside of Alamos, they followed the signs to La Reserva Para Protecion de Flora y Fauna Sierra. And armed with a park map, they drove towards the northwest, into desert scrub dotted with cactus and live oak.

They talked along the way about what they would do with the rest of their trip, steering carefully around discussing where they were going or why. Like neither of them wanted to jinx the meeting by mentioning his name. Or like they wanted plausible deniability of their hopes if he never showed.

* * *

They lit a campfire at twilight. One minute they were focused on arranging the tins of beans and posole on the fire; the next minute Tony's neck prickled again, and then Jack walked into their camp. As if this were the kind of thing he did all the time.

It felt unreal, meeting him beside the parked car, but Jack's body against his was too solid to be a dream. They held on for a long time. Jack's arms felt like steel and Tony kept his eyes pressed shut, not wanting to cry, not sure he could stop himself.

"Hey," Michelle said, from beside them. "Give a girl a chance, here."

They broke apart and Tony had time to register that Michelle was crying, too, before she threw herself into Jack's arms.

"You look amazing," Michelle said, once they were eating. "Guess I shouldn't ask what you've been doing down here."

Jack smiled, a little ruefully. "Probably not."

Tony wanted to ask: Do you know that I think about you? Do you know how much I miss you? Do you think about me? Do you have somebody down here? Instead, he said, "Are you okay?"

Jack looked at him for a long moment, as if he heard all of the things Tony wasn't saying. "Yeah," he said, finally. "I'm all right."

"Jesus, it's good to see you," Tony said.

"Not half as good as it is to see you."

* * *

Tony and Michelle did most of the talking. They told Jack about what they were doing now, how much they liked Oakland. They gave him news: Chloe was doing well, still prickly as ever, sent them bizarrely cranky emails every week or so. Kim and Chase had a new dog. Things like that.

"I know we can't ask what you're up to," Tony said, after a while. "But do you need anything?"

Jack shook his head. "What I've been needing more than anything in the world is this."

Conversation with somebody who knew him. Tony's heart clenched, all over again. "I'm glad you found us," Tony said.

"Piece of cake," Jack said, with a hint of his old smile.

They drank a magnum of cheap red Chilean wine, and as the night grew cooler they inched closer to the fire and to each other, until eventually Tony was sitting between Jack and Michelle, near enough to touch them both.

Tony closed his eyes, overcome by a wave of longing, though what he was longing for—well, that was complicated. For this to last. For the most beautiful woman in the world to stay married to him for the rest of their lives. For the man he had loved to stay by his side. He knew he was lucky if he got one of those: it didn't make any damn sense to want both. But he did. And it hurt.

"Back in a sec," Jack said, abruptly, and walked into the darkness.

Michelle's hand was warm on his thigh. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Tony took a deep breath. "It's...a lot."

"You've missed him." It was too obvious to require an answer, but she kept going. "You love him."

"It doesn't mean I—" Tony stopped, tried again. "You're still everything to me." Trying to put the intensity into words.

"Hey," Michelle said. "I know. It's okay."

"Michelle—"

"I love you," she said, quietly. "You know I love him too."

* * *

When Michelle got up to take a leak, Tony reached over and touched Jack's knee. Jack looked surprised, and then almost pained, like the contact cost him.

"Jack," Tony said, and then wasn't sure what else to say. "Jack."

Jack closed his eyes. "You have no idea how good it feels to hear that."

And then Jack was shaking, like he was fighting off tears, and Tony moved to put his arms around him.

"I'm sorry," Jack finally said, pulling away. "It's been a long time."

Since anyone's said his name. Since he's trusted anyone enough to let the guard down. Despite himself, Tony felt close to tears, too. "It's okay," he said, trying to put everything he meant behind the words.

"And seeing you with Michelle again—it's great, Tony."

"But it isn't easy."

Jack shrugged, face like stone.

Tony sighed. "C'mere," he said, and pulled Jack back into his arms. And that was how Michelle found them, when she came back to the fire.

For a split second, Tony wasn't sure how it would look. How she would respond. But she knelt on the other side of Jack, and put her arms around him too.

Some time later, Jack stiffened a little—as if he wanted to pull back, but couldn't. "I should let you two get to bed."

Tony pulled back a little. Michelle looked at him, eyes clear. "I love you," she mouthed without sound, and then said the words he'd heard in a thousand illicit daydreams: "You could stay."

Jack broke their combined grasp, jerking a few inches away. His face was a study in perplexity: eyes almost angry, incongruous over the tear streaks that still shone faintly on his cheeks. "Don't joke about that."

"You don't have to," she said, calmly. "But if you want to."

Jack looked at Tony. Tony looked at Michelle. Michelle smiled at him and the knots in his stomach started to loosen. "Michelle, you—"

"I can share for a night. And it wouldn't exactly be a hardship." She sounded...reasonable. As though she weren't suggesting the one thing Tony had always known he wasn't supposed to let himself want.

And then she stood up. Tony stood too, startled, still afraid she might be walking away from him.

"I'm going to bed," she said, softly. "You two figure this out." The kiss was sweet and tender, and Tony thanked whatever deity was looking after him—for the millionth time—that he'd lucked into Michelle loving him again.

And then she disappeared into the darkness, and a moment later the tent lit up faintly with the diffuse beam of a small flashlight. And Tony stood there, a little shellshocked.

"Does she know? About us?" Jack had risen, but wasn't standing too close.

Tony had to clear his throat. "Yeah. Not the details, but she knows the gist."

"You two don't do this." It wasn't really a question.

"Not usually, no."

"I don't want your pity," Jack bit out. "If that's what this is—"

"Are you nuts?" That shut him up. I love you, Tony wanted to say, but couldn't. "You...matter," was the best he could do. "To both of us."

In the firelight, Jack's face was half-shadowed, and his lashes glinted gold. "I'd be lying if I said it wasn't tempting," he admitted, almost too quiet to hear.

Tony flashed on the memory of Jack's face as he was about to come, the sound of his voice. Overlaid it with the feeling of Michelle atop him, head thrown back, hips moving. The ensuing wave of desire was so strong it almost knocked him down. "Come on," he said, voice rough, and extended a hand.

And then, for the first time in God only knew how long, Jack kissed him. The scrape of stubble, the insistent press of Jack's tongue in his mouth, were too good to believe. Especially with Michelle waiting for them in the tent.

"Count me in," Jack said when he pulled back. His grin took ten years off of him, and made Tony want to whoop. Instead he held on to Jack's hand and tugged him tentwards.

* * *

When Tony had fantasized about this—and he had, more times than he really wanted to admit—he hadn't imagined how hot it would be to see his lover kissing his wife. Both of them kneeling up, chests pressed together, eyes closed, mouths meeting.

Madre de Dios. Tony got hard so fast he almost sprained something.

The back of his mind didn't quite believe that Michelle was going for this. When they were home again, just the two of them, would she resent his attention to Jack? Suddenly it seemed important that they focus on her first. As if, through the feel of her skin and the sound of her voice, Tony could reassure himself that this was really okay.

He glanced at Jack, gestured with his eyes toward Michelle, and as one they pushed her to the sleeping bag. She went willingly, laughing a little, though her laugh turned into a moan when Jack sucked at her neck and Tony rubbed her nipple between two fingers.

She came lying on top of Tony, his hands on her and his mouth on her neck, as Jack knelt between her thighs. Afterwards she rolled off of him, breathing hard, looking happily dazed.

As she recovered, Tony turned to Jack. They half-wrestled for a moment to see who would be on top: Tony hadn't realized he'd missed that. Jack let Tony win.

Michelle slid alongside them and whispered in Jack's ear. Whatever she said made him jerk beneath Tony, pulling away from the kiss and struggling for control. "Jesus," he muttered, finally.

Tony looked from one to the other. "What was that?"

"Your wife is trying to kill me," Jack said, laughing weakly.

"I just had a suggestion," Michelle said.

"That innocent look isn't fooling anybody," Tony told her.

And then she whispered it in his ear, too, and he had to clutch his balls to keep from coming. Jack laughed, wicked and low.

***

Tony slid one lubed finger in and Jack sighed. They hadn't done this often, and Tony was willing to bet Jack hadn't done it since. "Easy," he murmured.

"More," Jack said, impatient, then let out a wordless moan as Michelle stroked a hand along his cock. He was on his hands and knees, head hanging down, offering an exquisite expanse of skin: sunburned brown everywhere except his groin and his ass, vulnerable and pale.

Tony slicked himself and, with hands he was proud weren't shaking, steadied himself to push inside. He bit his lip to keep from coming: Jack was tight, God, so tight --

He pulled out, slid back in, and this time Jack groaned. The sound was like velvet over steel. It made Tony ache.

And then Michelle pushed her way under Jack, and Jack's whole body convulsed between them.

"Oh," he managed, "oh, _god_—"

She had to be sucking him. Licking slow lines down his heavy cock where it hung beneath him, beneath them. Just the thought was almost enough to finish Tony off.

Tony had his rhythm now. And Jack was tense beneath him, fighting with everything he had not to come from the dual stimulation. Gasping with every thrust.

"Come on," Tony murmured, wanting to make him come first. "C'mon, Jack."

And maybe the use of his own name was what did it: Jack let out a cry and went stiff, then relaxed beneath him. It wasn't long before Tony joined him.

Somehow they all managed to orient themselves in the same direction. Tony fell asleep with Jack and Michelle pressed against him on either side.

* * *

When Tony woke, he was alone, and sunlight streamed through the walls, tinting his skin green. He fumbled into his boxer shorts and jeans and unzipped the door.

Michelle was dressed and putting a pot of coffee on the renewed fire. There was no sign of Jack.

"Hey," he said, joining her.

She smiled at him and his heart caught in his throat. Again. Like it did most mornings.

"I found this in my boot," she said, handing him the paper.

_I can't thank you enough, so I won't try._

Unsigned. Of course.

Tony read it a few times, then folded it in half and tucked it into his back pocket. "I guess that's that," he said, after a while.

"I guess it is."

Tony moved to put his arms around her, and Michelle turned in his embrace to curl against his chest. They stood that way for a while, his nose pressed into her hair.

They drank their coffee, ate leftover tortillas heated at the edge of the fire, and struck camp to drive back down the mountain.

They talked most of the way back to Navojoa. Not about anything in particular; Tony just wanted to hear her voice, and she seemed happy to oblige. When they fell silent, of course, he thought of Jack—doing whatever he was doing, in his new life, with his new name. Funny: thinking of Jack made him wistful, even sad, but it didn't hurt as bad as it used to, somehow.


End file.
